


you gotta hurt sometimes to learn to heal

by donutcats



Category: Outer Banks (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Fluff and Angst, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Pining, Post-Canon, boys talking to each other about their emotions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:41:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24154486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donutcats/pseuds/donutcats
Summary: “Hey, you wanna get in the hot tub?”“What?”“The hot tub. I mean, I spent good money on it. We might as well use it.”
Relationships: JJ/Pope (Outer Banks)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 208





	you gotta hurt sometimes to learn to heal

**Author's Note:**

> I watched outer banks in two days and I had a terrible need more jj/pope content. they have such a good dynamic, they deserve more love. I whipped this out in a few hours, so sorry if there's any mistakes! could be read as platonic if you squint and are a coward. 
> 
> title from some kind of disaster by all time low.

Pope can see the shape of JJ in the grass down by the water’s edge. Not close enough to be in the water, but enough for his sneakers to squelch as he walks closer. JJ rolls onto his back, limbs spread out a bit haphazardly, one arm glued across his face. 

JJ doesn’t say anything, and neither does Pope. Instead, he slowly sits down next to JJ, the silence stretching and stretching until JJ cracks. Until words are tumbling heave ho out of his mouth, equal parts venom and melancholy. Mostly complaints and threats and _how the fuck could they do that._ Pope lays back, the ground instantly seeping into his shirt. But he lets JJ talk, lets JJ rip up handfuls of damp dirt and grass and toss them into the barely there breeze. Because he needs this. 

It feels like a long time coming, and if he expected anything else when he came looking for JJ, then he might as well call himself an idiot. They were all breaking apart and the more they fractured and drifted from each other, the worse the clean up would be. He knew this, Kie knew this. He hoped JJ knew this, hoped JJ was just off licking his wounds and he’d come back to them, so they could all huddle together and help each other.

Except the days kept piling onto each other without JJ replying to their texts or answering their calls and the little seeds of worry and panic were starting to fully take root and threaten to strangle Pope.

“How’s JJ?” She had asked him yesterday, the words hiccuping out of her, tripping over themselves as she sucked in another breath. They had been sitting on her bed, one moment they were talking and the next she was breaking down and Pope was bundling her closer.

“I uh, I don’t know.” 

“What do you mean-“ Kie pulled away, eyes red and face blotchy. Her eyebrows starting to furrow in that way when she was teetering on the edge between angry and confused. “You don’t know because you haven’t asked, or because you still haven’t heard from him?” 

“You know JJ. He’ll wash up eventually.” It’s something she said to him, what feels like ages ago. He’s not sure he ever believed it though. The words felt off in his mouth even as he said them.

 _“Pope.”_ So much is packed into his name. Kie has always been good at that. Saying everything she needs to in one single word. 

Pope sighed, picturing the rest of his tomorrow looking for JJ, already knowing that Kie would offer to join, she’d even get dressed. But then she’d see something. On her phone or in her room or just walking out of her door and she’d press a fist to her mouth and apologize even as she burrowed under the covers. 

She wants to be strong, he knows. But he also knows how fucking hard it is. 

“I’ll text him again tomorrow, and if he doesn’t answer, I’ll start by looking at the Chateau.”

“Thank you.” 

  
  


Which brings him to now, laying on his back in the damp grass of the Chateau, JJ less than an arm's length away.

He’s crying, Pope knows this, because he’s become attuned to the way JJ can cry so quietly. The way he’s learned how to just let the tears fall without making a sound or moving a muscle. It’d be impressive if it wasn’t so sad.

“JJ-“

“Hey, you wanna get in the hot tub?” 

_“What?”_

“The hot tub.” JJ is already jumping to his feet, rubbing at his face with the back of his arm, and tugging his mud stained shirt over his head. “I mean, fuck, I spent good money on it. We might as well use it.”

It’s such a shift, the way JJ can suck it all in and pretend he wasn’t just spilling out at the seams. It’s staggering, actually. How he has it down to an artform. Without seeing any other option, Pope helps him pull back the covering, scoops out a few wayward pieces of debris with his hands as JJ clambers in. 

“Don’t be a pussy, it’s just a few leaves.” 

“There was a dead ant.” 

“He died a hero’s death.” 

Pope sighs, the long suffering type that feels familiar in your throat because you’ve known someone so long. He takes off his own shirt, curses the fact that he knew he was going out to find JJ and still decided to wear khaki shorts instead of anything more suited for water. Catches himself a second before stepping in and then proceeds to dump the contents of his pockets onto his pile of clothing, and he finally joins.

“See, this ain’t so bad.” JJ stretches both arms out along the rim of the hot tub, tipping his head back back _back_ until his throat is exposed to the weakening afternoon light. 

“JJ-“ 

“Stop saying my name like that.” 

“Like what?” 

“Like you want to say something.” 

“It’s because I do.” 

“Well I don’t. I’m done saying shit. Just enjoy the day, Pope. We got nothing else to do.” And he settles in, face still tilted towards the sky, eyes squeezed shut against the light. 

“I just- where have you been?” 

“God dammit-“ 

“We can go back to not talking or whatever after this, but- JJ we were worried. Man, I just want to know that you were safe.”

They slip into silence once again, but Pope can see the way JJ flexes his hand, curls it into a fist, stretches it back out and cracks each knuckle individually. Flexes the other one. Lowers his face to actually look at Pope.

“Yeah, I was fine. No need to worry.”

“I didn't say fine, I said safe.” 

“I’ve been here, ok? I just have to tough it out for a few more months and then I’m pretty sure I’m eligible for squatters rights, or something.” He shrugs one shoulder, disturbing the water. “It’s as close to safe as I can get nowadays. Just, drop it.” 

“If you need anything-“ 

“Drop it, Pope.” 

It falls back to that quiet space between them. JJ turns the jets on, turns them off. Pope plays with the zipper of one of his pockets under the water. He feels their legs bump together in the water, feels the cautious way JJ seems to hook their ankles. He glances at JJ when it happens, trying to get a read on the why of it all, but JJ’s eyes are closed, his head once again tipped back. Pope let's himself enjoy it for a few minutes.

“I know what you were doing these last few days.” He can’t help but say, to break the silence starting to stretch a little too thin. 

“Wait, you know about that? I didn’t think I left any witnesses.” JJ’s smile catches on his teeth, the way it always does when he’s especially proud of a joke.

“Funny. I meant you pulling away from us.” 

JJ's face drops at that. Shutters closed. He tries to crack his knuckles again but gives up halfway through when nothing comes of it. 

“Taking off and not answering any of our texts. What, did you think we’d be better off without you or something?” 

“Or something.” 

“Well we’re not. Kie is a mess right now, and she just wants to make sure you’re ok. I don’t think she’d come back from that. If you left too.” 

He talks around it, but they both know what he’s really referring to. The moment where JJ was convinced he was going to follow John B, take a boat and just leave, because he has to be out there. He has to be alive and _out there._ If Big John could have done it, so can his son, right? Pope could feel how bad he wanted that, but he laid a hand on JJ’s shoulder and said _promise me you won’t leave, not by yourself at least. promise me that instead of leaving you’ll come find me and we’ll figure it out._ JJ had promised, fingers digging into the soft dirt at their side, and he had to believe that would be enough.

“Not too happy with just the two of you alone together, huh? Sounds like there’s trouble in paradise.” JJ presses the side of his wrist to his lips, wipes too aggressively at the corner of his mouth as he looks off towards where the marsh water meets the dock. Classic JJ, taking something that could threaten to hit the soft bits of him and deflecting it. 

“There really isn’t any paradise to have trouble in.” 

“Oh? Color me intrigued.” 

“Kie and I. We aren’t-. We’re just friends.” 

“Got rejected again, huh? Tough break-“ 

“She needed me to be her family, more than she needed me to be her boyfriend.” 

Pope can see it, the way the edges of JJ continuously try to build up, like a shield. Patching over each other every time he presses his lips together and squints into the distance and makes some sort of comment. 

“You can be both.” JJ reasons. In a tone of voice that sounds as if he doesn’t understand why Pope would have to choose. He presses his lips together again, wrinkles his nose a little bit. All little tells that Pope has learned over the years, the things that make up JJ. 

“I don’t think she wanted both. We actually uh- talked. We had a pretty good talk, about. Us.” Pope shrugs, runs his hands through the water. “About how tense everything had been leading up to the kiss and how I was expecting something from her that I had no right to. And like-.” He stops himself. JJ doesn’t need or even want all the details. “The point is that we talked and I’ve realized a lot of things recently and one of them is that Kie will always be one of my best friends.” 

JJ swallows, nods his head once. “Well, good for you, for being all mature and shit.” He taps his fingers against a spot where the jets come out. Pope remembers the ones that shot a stream above water like JJ was in the middle of the Bellagio fountain. “How is she, anyways?” 

A thought flickers across his mind, a snappish little thought wanting to remind JJ of how Pope sort of just said she was a mess. But he bats it aside, tries to understand that right now, this is JJ’s way of worrying about her. When he’s already shored himself behind armor and hasn’t taken the time to let it fall away just yet.

“She lost her two best friends, JJ, and she’s been constantly worried that she’s about to lose another.” 

JJ doesn’t reply, instead slipping his elbows from the hot tub rim, slinking further into the water until it laps against the top of his shoulders. Their ankles untangle as he shifts, and Pope realizes he minds far more than he thought he would at the loss of contact. 

“JJ, listen, we’re _family._ You said so yourself.” JJ doesn’t respond beyond a twisting of his lips, his eyes still stuck on the horizon. He wants to reach forward, get his fingers under the edges of his armor and peel it away, to snap him out of it and remind him that he doesn’t need that. Not here, when it’s just them. 

Pope finds himself moving forward, it’s one of those moments where it feels like his body moves before his brain can fully process it, crossing the small area of the hot tub to stand in JJ’s space. He felt the reverse of this when he was high, his thoughts moving too fast for his body. 

JJ finally turns away from the marsh, hearing Pope approach, expression going a bit wide at the proximity. He sucks in a breath, Pope can almost feel it.

His hands come up to cup JJ’s jaw, fingers pressing into the soft skin at the back of his neck. It feels familiar, being this close, and Pope realizes it’s because he’s normally at the receiving end of these types of touches. It’s normally JJ’s hands on his face, on his neck, his face far too close to Pope’s. 

Before he can think too much of it, he grasps onto his first instinct, the same one that caused him to cross the hot tub. He doesn’t overthink this. He refuses to overthink this. He knows what JJ would do, for comfort. The same thing he always does. Offer an anchor point. Pope leans in and presses his forehead against JJ’s. “It takes longer for us to heal when we’re not together.”

JJ huffs, and the sound reminds him of the sort of breath you take when you’ve been under for awhile and you finally break the water’s surface. “Jesus fuck- alright, I get it.” But JJ rocks forward, presses back into the touch, Pope can feel the cool bite of JJ’s many rings as he slides a hand to Pope’s cheek, there and gone. Then he’s shoving Pope, slapping at his arm, sniffling hard and cutting his eyes away. “No need to be so dramatic about it.” 

Pope ignores the fresh wet sheen to his eyes, the way they rim red.

“You started it.” 

“I wanted to have fun in our hot tub-“ 

“Before that!” 

“I was having a moment to myself, when you crashed it!” 

“You were face down in the lawn, crying, and then started talking about how you have no future and no life. That’s like, the peak of drama.” 

“Fuck you for making fun of me at my most vulnerable.” JJ snaps out, but he’s smiling. A little wobbly, but edged with that same sort of piecemeal armor. His mouth upturned at the corners, as he kicks at Pope, making contact and crowing about the small victory.

“It’s part of our charm.” Pope moves away before JJ can kick him again.

“You mean _your_ charm.”

“Mmm.” Pope pretends to think for a split second. “No. You’d do the same.” 

“Yeah, I would.” The smile is still there. 

“Exactly.” He feels too big for his skin all of a sudden. “Hey, how about we get some lunch and then you take a nap or something. You look like you need one.” He ignores JJ’s _wow thanks,_ and hoists himself out of the hot tub. “I’m texting Kie to come over and hang tonight if she’s up for it. We haven’t spent time together in way too long.” 

“Sounds like a plan.” JJ mumbles, submerging himself fully in the water only to pop out on the other side, where Pope just vacated. He flicks water at Pope, grinning in that absolute hellish way of his, as Pope loudly calls him various insulting names and rustles around in his discarded hoodie until he finds his phone.

They fall back into silence as Pope taps out a message, as he has a quick conversation with Kie. As JJ just watches him with half closed eyes and a twist to his lips.

“You lost him too, you know.” 

“What?” Pope feels his shoulders tense at the tone of voice he's using, casual and far too perceptive for JJ. 

JJ shrugs, leaning forward to rest his chin against his crossed arms, still inside of the hot tub. “You’re acting like this is just a me and Kie thing. But you lost him too.”

“I know that,” now is not the time for JJ to turn this heart to heart around and shove it at Pope. That’s unfair. But, then again. When has JJ Maybank ever fought fair? Pope presses his lips together, pulls his shirt back on. “Kie lost her best friends, and you lost a _brother_ and- I elected myself to be the one person who doesn’t completely lose it, or else we’d all be a total mess.” 

“God, Pope, you don’t have to be fucking strong for us. He was your best friend too.” JJ finally climbs out, water dripping from the ends of his hair and the edges of his board shorts and the tip of his nose, as he walks over and plants both hands on Pope’s bare shoulders. “You don’t have to take care of us, Pope.” 

“Who else will? John B is-“ 

“You basically just said we have to take care of each other, but sure, go off.” And there it is, JJ’s hand grasping at the back of Pope’s neck. _Familiar._ Reeling Pope in until he thumps against JJ’s chest. 

It only takes a second, but then he presses himself into the hug, feels JJ’s arms tighten. Pope tries not to cry, he feels like he’s been doing so much of that when he’s alone in his room, but his throat feels heavy and his fingers dig into JJ’s shoulder blades. He doesn’t want to cry. He compromises by letting out a few sniffles, a few quiet tears that might make JJ proud if it wasn’t so sad. 

“You look like you need a nap too. C’mon.” JJ's hand doesn’t move from the back of Pope’s neck as they turn towards the house. Pope curls his fingers into the loose fabric of JJ’s pocket.

They make boxed macaroni and cheese for lunch. It’s all they can find in John B’s cupboards that still seems edible. That and a can of ravioli with the label peeling away, but Pope vetos it. 

“Pasta never goes old, you know. Well, the dry pasta, pretty sure cooked pasta can go off. It could withstand like, a nuclear detonation or something. That and cockroaches. Did you ever see that movie about a radioactive planet inhabited by mutants, where-”

“I don’t know enough about pasta to confirm or deny that it never expires. Or cockroaches, actually.” 

They settle into the old couch in John B’s living room, and Pope doesn’t think it’s very healthy to mourn the loss of their best friend in said best friend's house, but he’s not in the mood to point that out. Instead they eat their mac n’ cheese and talk about anything that comes to mind. JJ continues to give disjointed explanations of equally terrible movies in between every other topic they come up with.

“Don’t tell me you’re planning to drop out of high school.” Pope complains, because he feels like that’s the punchline to whatever JJ is currently talking about.

JJ makes a sort of _phtphtptht_ noise with his mouth, “I wish! But you’d probably kick my ass if I did.” 

“Damn right. When I’m done with you, we’ll both be off to college.”

“Jokester over here.” JJ rolls his eyes.

“Fine. College for me and trade school for you.” 

JJ makes a face, eats a too full forkful of macaroni, and elbows Pope. “I guess.” He says, a little muffled.

“Ew, chew your food.”

“Alright!”

“And swallow it! _JJ I meant chew and swallow, for the love of god close your mouth-”_

Pope tries to forcibly close JJ’s mouth, but that just means his fingers are in prime position for JJ to try and bite them, so Pope just shoves him until JJ stops laughing and threatening to choke on his food. 

At some point, their legs tangle together on the too small sofa, and Pope doesn’t mind one bit. He should maybe analyze that. Should maybe dissect the entire afternoon since the moment he settled down in the lawn next to JJ until now. The face holding and the foreheads and all the touching since forever.

But he decides that’s for another day, where he has more time and brain power to dedicate to it.

Once their bowls are mostly empty and JJ has tipped his hat forward over his face in the universal middle aged dad sign for _‘do not disturb’_ , Pope decides he should start cleaning up. 

JJ catches him by the wrist. “Nope, no way. That can wait. It’s nap time, amigo.” He tugs at Pope's arm, not too hard but enough to jarr his shoulder every time, until Pope takes one last look at the dishes and the pot still on the stove, and gives up. He let’s JJ pull him back onto the couch, and he can just see JJ's self satisfied smile beneath the brim of his cap. He slings an arm around Pope’s shoulder the moment Pope seems settled, pulling him even closer. “C’mon, get comfortable. We had a big day of emotions, we deserve this.” 

Pope can’t help but agree. He thinks it’d be easier and much more comfortable if they didn’t nap on the couch though, if instead they went to separate beds. But then who would take John B's room? Which one of them would open his door and deal with whatever emotional baggage that entailed? So Pope presses his cheek against JJ’s shoulder and accepts that he’s going to have a crick in his neck when he wakes up. 

**Author's Note:**

> if you want to, you should check out;  
> [my twitter!](https://twitter.com/kaijucats)  
> [my tumblr!](https://donutcats.tumblr.com/)


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